


A Moment to Kill

by jayilyse



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Implied Torture, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, Mild Gore, Minor Violence, POV First Person, Red Romance, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 11:51:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayilyse/pseuds/jayilyse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We always came back to each other as soon as our business was finished. Half a sweep went by in this way – nights and days blurred in her arms, Alternian suns and moons passing in a sluggish haze that I didn’t mind, so long as everything stayed like this. My fleets were growing bigger by the day. I knew that we had a chance to win. However, we needed more assurance that we could finally create an equal society. We needed a powerful high blood on our side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Moment to Kill

**Author's Note:**

> If you didn't read the tags, there is some gore and violence in here, just not enough to be considered graphic. At the end there is implied rape. If that doesn't turn you away, then enjoy.

 

 

It wasn't my fault. 

I never wanted to do it. 

It was necessary – unavoidable. This blood on my hands is her’s. The blue liquid has long since disappeared. It was washed off merely two sweeps ago. But I can still see it there. I can still see the cerulean staining them. I feel the proof of her life – warm, sticky – as it slid through my fingers and down to the ground with an insignificant _“plop"._ For certain trolls this would be an unimportant bump on the terrain. Yet, it’s everything to me.

It’s entirely my fault.

It’s because I trusted him. He was so unpredictable – so irrational, that I thought maybe he would keep to his word, for the time being – if only until I gathered up an army of Cavalreapers big enough to take him down. If only until I could have turned his own forces against him. It was a risky move to put myself in front of him. He was a subjugglator, after all. But I knew the rumors were true. He likes bloodshed. He likes games. He loves entertainment. And what’s more entertaining to a troll besides letting their opponent come close to winning, knowing you would still win? Besides, he seemed to like my bravado. No one confronted him but those of his blood color and up – and there I was, one of the lowest of the low bloods, asking if he might help us in our revolution. 

My plan was to get close, and strike when The Grand Highblood was least expecting it. Instead, the game turned out in his favor.

I lost to him, and I lost her.

I killed her. I killed my matesprit for the one chance that I could win – that the revolution would usurp the current system. I failed miserably. I failed horribly. I sacrificed her “for the greater good” that never happened. I remember everything – from the first moment we met, to her end at my own hand.

 

She was wandering aimlessly when we met. I was in one of the few forests on Alternia. The green trees and vines surrounded me. The openings in the trees emitted sunlight, as it was best to do my kind of work when every other troll was asleep. I huddled in the trees, talking to creatures who could aid me in the revolution. Some were harder to convince. So I told Pyralspite to talk to them later. When I noticed her, I made sure to stay stock still, though it was of no use. She looked directly where I was. The locks of her hair were slightly matted at its tips, with feral, wild eyes – fangs slightly piercing her lower lip – so beast like and mesmerizing at the same time. I felt some strong pull to her, a familiarity that I never had with anyone without even showing her myself. Her clothes showed her blood color. It would be a risk to go down.

I took it.

I hid my wings and I jumped down from the tree, landing on the spongy layers of moss and plant life to cushion my fall. Her eyes watched me as I landed. One of them had an eye patch. One arm was robotic. She stared at me for a while. I stared back. I was in complete awe of her rugged beauty. After a while, her expression softened a little. There was another moment of her looking me up and down before she smirked.

“Hey there.”

Her voice matched every part of her being – husky, robust, and confident. My breath was taken away. My words were garbled in my head. All the perfect things I was going to say flew out of my think pan. Nothing was coming out but a simple, elongated “uh”. My think pan started to go into overdrive – running on nothing with gears still turning. It seemed to go on for thousands of sweeps when I heard her laugh.

“What’s the matter, meowbeast got your taste muscle?”

Her laugh brought me back down to Alternia. I tried to think of something to say, but once again nothing was coming. So, I just said whatever came to mind first.

“What brings a high blood, especially a blue blood, to the forest?”

“When someone is trying to escape, they’ll go anywhere. It’s easy to hide when you can sense where someone is.”

I knitted my brows in confusion. Sense where someone is? That’s a unique ability, even for a high blood. Sensing, like with my abilities, comes with the power of manipulation if one so chooses to use it. There was only one person especially famous for it.

“Well, if it isn’t Mindfang in the flesh. It’s quite the honor.” I said in a seemingly haughty tone. I was speaking the truth, though. It was truly my honor to meet a beautiful troll such as her.

“Pretty cocky for a low blood, aren’t you?”

“No more than need be.” I said, along with a smirk – my usual boldness coming back. Her lips were curled upwards at their corners. It looked like she was enjoying the banter.

“I could easily make you kill yourself right now.” She said, stepping closer to me. Most trolls would be intimidated. I decided to take her challenge. I stepped closer, too.

“But will you?”

For a while we just circled each other, eyeing each other up to see if the other would make any sudden movements. Our feet made tiny, barely audible, crunches on fallen leaves and foliage. I spread my wings. She wasn’t even surprised. The circling motion continued as we gradually moved closer and closer, elevating and lowering our gaze to study the other. I didn’t even notice – only when we were an arm’s length apart did I start to see the distance between us diminishing. I bared my fangs in a toothy grin, and she returned the gesture. Soon, we were almost a hair’s breadth apart. I looked her in the eye, then. She could easily kill me at this distance. I could easily send any beast to attack her at my will – a low blood versus a high blood – an expected battle in this time of war. I knew she wouldn’t. She knew I wouldn’t. 

Slow, measured breaths synced us together. It was time to do what I had been waiting for since the moment I saw her – to test if this familiarity that I felt from her was the flushed inclination I hadn’t ever felt before. I leaned in, kissing her with the kind of lingering kiss that leads to several more. There was no time to worry about, no intruders to worry about either; no one would even think a higher blood caste would go to low blood forests. She kissed back, with calm, calculative movements; breathy moans escaped her lips. I wrapped my arms around her waist and she wrapped her arms around my neck. When we finished our kiss, I rested my think pan protector against hers to catch my breath. The air between us mingled together as if our lips had never parted. My eyes were closed, but I could feel her lips tug into a smirk. A smile managed to make its way to my face.

“Cocky low blood.”

“Only if need be.”

 

Our days together were, and are, indescribable. Yet, when I caught her alone she always had a concoction of sadness and hurt – when she saw me that face would immediately disappear. She would offer a smile. I would offer a hand. We often slept in the same recuperacoon when we had one available to us – caressing and showing each other how deep in the red quadrant we were for each other. She was independent, as was I. We did many things separately. I worked on my battle plans, leading, and gathering an armada for the revolution; she made sure that no one would find us, as we were both wanted criminals. We always came back to each other as soon as our business was finished. Half a sweep went by in this way – nights and days blurred in her arms, Alternian suns and moons passing in a sluggish haze that I didn’t mind, so long as everything stayed like this. My fleets were growing bigger by the day. I knew that we had a chance to win. However, we needed more assurance that we could finally create an equal society. We needed a powerful high blood on our side.

I told her of my plans to visit the leader of the subjugglators in our newest hiding place – a dark, dank cave with crude drawings in certain places, and scriptures of similar things to my planned revolution. A hint of a frown etched onto her face.

“That’s suicide.”

“I have to try.”

Her expression turned to a grimace that reached the fringes of her face. A low growl escaped her protein chute. We argued back and forth, with her playing the Dersian advocate – she bore her fangs at me with vehement ferocity. I tried to show her what having him on our side would do. Her screams and shouts took on a tone that they never had before – desperate, almost. The aura about her was frantic, as if she was about to start begging but was stubbornly refusing to. I was stubborn too, though. I walked over to her; I hugged her – her arms hung limply on her sides. I told her I would be back. She gave a small, sad chuckle and mumbled under her breath something akin to “I know you will”. I left after that, hoping that I was right – that I would come back.

 

I do not remember what I did to sneak into the leader of the subjugglator’s throne room. All I remember is the colorful steel, wall of blood behind him. Every shade of the color system besides the color of blood he possessed – as well as the infamous Tyrian purple, and bright candy red of ancient lore. Any color one could think of was on the sickening four walled room. The ice-cold floor practically burned through my shoes, similar to the nature of the subjugglator that was in front of me. The room seemed to be sound proofed – with various weapons throughout it. Most smelled of dried blood, rust, and were tinted various shades. The subjugglator didn’t seem all that surprised to see me. When he saw me, a twisted smile came onto his face.

“Well well, if it isn’t a motherfucking low blood all up in my throne room.”

I gulped just a bit, while trying to show as little fear as possible.

“Not just any low blood, sir.” I said, trying not to let my own fear take hold of me and stutter, lest he would have killed me on the spot. I spread my wings then, so he would recognize me as the up and coming revolutionist. His grin widened to a point where his face seemed distorted.

“There’s a motherfucking revolutionist in my midst. Aren’t I lucky? So how would you like to die, low – “

“I am not here to die, I am here to –“

“DO NOT MOTHERFUCKING INTERUPT ME, LOW BLOOD.”

I stopped my words dead in my tracks, and set my eye sight right on his face. I put a stone hard expression on as I steeled myself for what could have been my end. He looked me straight in the eye with a puzzled look on his face. Perhaps he was debating how to kill me. He seemed to be deep in thought, a frown making its way his face.

“It wouldn’t be fun to kill such a motherfucking conceited low blood right away. What is it that you seek?”

“I wish for your help in order to advance my revolution.”

His puzzled look immediately went away. He laughed – a hoarse, maniacal laugh – the kind that sends chills up one’s back erector.

“And why should I help you?”

“Because it’s the best game you will ever play.”

His grin came back.

“How so?”

“What’s more fun than messing with The Condesce herself, who would never guess that someone of you caste would do?”

A couple of moments passed as his face turned to a thoughtful, meditative look. It felt like far too many perigees before he answered me.

“I have never had the chance to put some of her blood on my motherfucking wall. You are convincing, low blood. What are your terms?”

“I wish for more trolls in my army.”

“That’s no motherfucking problem. But what happens if you lose this game?”

I had thought about the possibility of losing, of course. However, I knew I would not. I had to offer up something to please him. I knew he would accept nothing but the most degrading thing that could happen to me.

“I offer up myself.”

“I need more than that. Do you have a matesprit? A moirail?”

I hesitated before I answered.

“A matesprit, sir.”

His smile appeared once more, a sadistic grin as he put a mid-arm plate on his leg and a hand to his chin.

“Who is it?”

I gulped more noticeably than before. I had this feeling that this would lead to something horrible. Yet, if I lied, it would have been the end of me on the spot.

“Marquise Spinneret Mindfang.”

The laughter boomed around the room, echoing off every object within. The walls seemed to shake, as did all the weapons, while his body shook with jovial contentment.

“The one that motherfucking got away. Tell you what, low blood. I will help you – on one condition.”

I looked at him apprehensively. What could he possibly want? There seemed to be no correlation between what I was asking and the mention of my matesprit. Unless his aim was to make me –

“Kill her.”

I stood silent.

“Kill her and I will help you.”

Many emotions ran through my head at once. Sacrifice my flush, or sacrifice the entire revolution and my fellow trolls to tyranny for eternity? I did not want to sacrifice her, but it was her compared to all of Alternia. I did not know what to do.

“Are you motherfucking in, low blood?”

Silence.

“ANSWER ME.”

I paused.

“I am.”

He smirked.

“Good. You are free to go. I will send my fellow subjugglators to help you. However, you must deliver her body to me soon. I do not have much cerulean blood on my walls. I need to motherfucking change that.”

I left as a shiver ran down my back erector. I didn’t know how I was going to do it. How could I? How could I, The Summoner – an advocator of equality and peace – kill my own matesprit? I would have to instigate something. Or sneak up on her, perhaps. I had to plan. It was a feeling almost as bad as the aftermath of it all.

 

I decided to challenge her to an outright duel after a perigee of moping. It was going to be a pretend one to her, but I would take the chance to kill her. She could tell something was up, yet she never asked. I asked her for the duel in the cave, and to have the duel in the forest. She puckered her lips at first. Then she offered a smirk. There was something in the air about her, though. The smirk was a bit off. Like she knew about what was going to happen. That was an impossible idea to me. I took my lance off the wall. She took only her powers. She often made me do pointless things of her will instead of my own to mess with me. It was to the point where I had grown a certain amount of tolerance to it. I thought her underestimation of that and my abilities would allow my win to be fast and as painless as possible.

She was, as always, swift and nimble on her feet. I could never get a clear shot at her, even with my wings. It felt like my tolerance had grown since I could feel her powers edging into me, trying to stop me with a weak determination, like she wasn’t really trying. Eventually, I found a moment to kill. It was not in a painless place like I planned – it was right through her stomach. She screamed in such a shrill voice, such a piercing sound, that even the beasts around flew and scurried away. It was a sound I had never heard from her. A sound I never wanted to hear again, albeit it replays in my head every day. I took out the lance and hurried to her side. I was crying, brown tears shedding all over her body. Her eyes were fading in and out lazily as I ripped off pieces of my clothing to put on the hole I just made – in hopes that maybe it would stop the bleeding, maybe it would stop. In hopes she would be able to live. I knew it was in vain. I knew what I did was permanent. It ran through my fingers – sticky against my palms as fresh blood covered the drying. She lifted a hand to my face.

“It’s alright.”

“How could you say that? I just sent you to your _death_. How could you say that?” I said; my tone wavered from sobbing to screaming.

“I knew this was going to happen.”

I kneeled by her side, shocked and wide eyed at her words. How could she have known? There was no way she could have. It was then that she started to tell me parts of her story that she never told – the all-knowing cue ball and how it affected her life – between spurts of coughing up blood, how she was resigned to it. She knew her fate was inevitable the moment I came back and the same thought of “how am I going to kill her” replayed over and over. She knew. She knew all along and she still stayed with me.

“Summoner.”

Choking and sobbing, I asked what she wanted.

“Kiss me.”

A sad chuckle between the sobs came through.

“It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?”

“Just do it.”

I locked my eyes on hers – the flush of my life. The most amazing troll I would ever meet, and the first troll I killed. She was slowly fading out. I didn’t have much time to fulfill her last wish. I stopped hesitating, leaned down, and kissed her. It tasted like rust and salt as my lips pressed onto hers. There was a very slight push back. I let the kiss linger, but not too much as I wanted her to save her energy – to talk to me more. Not to go –for her eyes to flutter open just a bit more. As soon as I lifted my lips from hers, I heard her say her last words.

“Cocky low blood.”

And then she was gone.

I watched her body for a very long time before I readied myself to deliver it to The Grand Highblood. I flew over to the subjugglator’s. I offered him her body. His mirthful laugh rebounded around the room once more.

“You have done motherfucking well. I shall send my troops.”

My determination was higher than ever to win this war. I had sacrificed way too much to lose. My armada rejoiced when they heard the news of additional fleets – they never knew of my relationship with Mindfang. Soon, I sent them to battle by my side for a fight on the legendary Sufferer’s plateau. The plateau itself was dry, ashen ground – I could see the crag on which The Signless was said to be executed. Seeing that motivated even more. The Grand Highblood watched from a cliff not far away. We were heading to the rush point, where we saw the army of higher castes facing the glare of the sun – which was to our advantage, when I heard a loud bellow. I looked to the cliff, and it was him. I looked toward my troops, and saw all of the trolls that were sent by him run toward him and away from me. My army was slaughtered. I was the only survivor. All you could hear in the distance was a deafening, earsplitting, laugh.

 

He won.

 

After that, The Condesce sent all of us off of Alternia, including The Grand Highblood. She knew what he wanted – a piece of her blood on his wall – and she wasn’t having that. She knew all too well that once he had a piece, he would try to find a way to acquire more. All of us were put onto red airships, with the trident symbol on it representing The Condesce. The airships were made out of the purest metal in all of Alternia, so space expeditions to fight other planets in the name of glory could last long in combat. They had a lot of equipment and luxuries on board before all the adult trolls were sent off, at which point she ripped the whole ship apart so that we basically only had a toilet and food left. She put The Grand Highblood with me on one of the ships. He smirked when he set his gaze upon me. He knew my question right away.

“I never said I wouldn’t take my motherfucking troops back.”

I glared at him, trying to hold back tears in my eyes. I failed because of him. I failed because of me.

“Do not worry. It would be a shame to kill a low blood as conceited as you. Don’t you remember what would happen if you lost the motherfucking game?”

I wanted to scream at him – anything, anyone, just something – but I remembered no one else was here to hear me. No one would even care if there were others. It was just me and him. I simply gulped and squeezed my fists harder, as my arms were on my respective sides.

“I have _interesting_ plans for you.” He said leisurely, a subtle but obvious pause before “interesting”. He licked his lips and ate my entire body up in one glance.

I lost her. I lost the game. I lost myself in the process.

 

And it’s entirely my fault.


End file.
